


Human

by kyouyaed



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Emotions, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:06:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyouyaed/pseuds/kyouyaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My pop never went anywhere without glue. Always had it in his toolbelt. Never knew when somethin' would need a quick fix. Always kept his glue bottle clean and filled. Happy as a glue bottle can be, ya know?"</p>
<p>Preston finally looks up, his face carefully calm again. "You're rambling, Sturges," he points out, mouth twitching upward slightly. "Thank you, though."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human

**Author's Note:**

> written for an ask meme prompt on tumblr. the prompt was just 'hold my hand' and so this happened! i hope it's in character :) can be read on tumblr [here](http://conspiracieys.tumblr.com/post/141019893072/sturgeston-and-5)!! all errors are mine as this is unedited. enjoy!

"Shouldn't ya let someone else do rounds?"

Preston tenses and whirls around, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a thin line. The brim of his hat casts a shadow over his eyes, and they glitter in the vibrant moonlight.

"It's jus' me," Sturges says calmly, his hands held up in surrender. He studies Preston calmly, taking in how dangerous the Minuteman looks. Sturges can see the man Preston could be, if he had joined the Minutemen at a different time in his life. He takes a slow step toward Preston. "Preston?"

It takes a moment but the Minuteman relaxes, and he jerks his head toward the spot next to him. Sturges lowers his hands and takes a few slow steps to Preston's side. Preston observes him and then sets off without a word, leaving Sturges to kick up the pace to keep up. A frown crosses Sturges' face and he breaks into a jog to catch up to the man, slowing to a brisk walk to keep up with his long, aggressive strides.

"You never answered my question," Sturges points out when they pass the turrets in front of the bridge for a third time.

"Everyone is sleeping," Preston says, his voice somewhat scratchy from disuse. "Why wake someone when I'm perfectly capable of making rounds myself?"

Sturges chuckles quietly and shakes his head, tilting slightly to look at his companion. "Sometimes ya need'ta take a break," he explains. "It's good for you to rest." Preston only inclines his head to show he's heard. Sturges sighs and tucks his hands into the pockets of his overalls.

The moon is low in the sky when Sturges dares to speak again. He doesn't know what to say when Preston is like this. He can count on one hand how many times he's had a chance to see Preston like this, concentrated, focused, scarred.

"It's okay t' let us take care of you," he says, nudging Preston gently with his arm.

Preston is a careful kind of person. He doesn't let people know how he's really feeling. He smiles at Mama Murphy, is quick to reassuringly rub Jun's back when he's in pain, the first one to hold Marcy when she can't keep up the anger and collapses in tears. Sturges frowns at him, because no one is there to catch Preston when he falls. Sturges himself knows he's careful and guarded, but he can let his guard down and let someone take care of him when he really needs it. No one seems to have taught Preston how to do that.

"I can take care of myself." Preston's calm reply deepens Sturges' frown.

"Yeah," he agrees, briefly amused by the confused look Preston gives him, "but it doesn't hurt to tell us what'cha need sometimes."

Preston shakes his head and turns his face away, gazing almost unseeingly across Sanctuary. Sturges watches him, drinking in the focused set of his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his lips. The way the moonlight illuminates his skin, making him glow and look... Otherworldly. To Sturges, Preston has never looked more human than in that moment.

And so he says, "You can tell me what'cha need, Preston." He punctuates this with a light touch to Preston's elbow. Preston is slow to look at him but when he does, Sturges is startled by the raw emotion in those dark eyes. He's overcome with the urge to press their foreheads together, to be close to him, to reassure him with simple intimacy that he's loved, cherished, that his needs are valid. Sturges resists and instead squeezes Preston's elbow.

"My needs aren't as important as yours and the rest of the settlement's needs," Preston finally says, dropping his gaze to where Sturges is touching him. For a moment, Sturges imagines that Preston can feel the heat of his skin through their layers, but then he realizes how ridiculous that thought is because Sturges can't feel the heat of Preston's skin at all.

"They are." The conviction in his voice startles himself, but Preston doesn't look up from where they're connected. "Your needs are jus' as important, Preston. Please." He squeezes Preston's elbow again but doesn't loosen his grip this time. "Please don' ever think you're not as important as us. You are. You're our glue, y'know? Th' most important tool in the toolbox." He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring way. "My pop never went anywhere without glue. Always had it in his toolbelt. Never knew when somethin' would need a quick fix. Always kept his glue bottle clean and filled. Happy as a glue bottle can be, ya know?"

Preston finally looks up, his face carefully calm again. "You're rambling, Sturges," he points out, mouth twitching upward slightly. "Thank you, though." He reaches out and grips Sturges' forearm with his hand and drops his gaze to their arms, and Sturges can tell he's looking between their hands.

Sturges tips his head to the side. "Anything," he murmurs. "If ya need anythin' at all, Preston."

Preston smiles but doesn't look up. "Thank you." He hesitates. "There is... One thing."

"Hm?"

Preston keeps his gaze on his own gloved hand gripping onto Sturges.

"Can..." Preston trails off and Sturges blinks at him. "No. We need to continue rounds."

Sturges hums, glancing between their hands on each others' arms.

"I need ya to do somethin'," he says abruptly, and Preston meets his gaze and nods immediately. "Hold my hand while we walk."

"Of co-" Preston starts, but his voice cuts off tightly and the surprise is clear on his face. There's something else that Sturges can't quite interpret, but Preston smiles slightly at him and whatever emotion Sturges saw vanishes. "I can do that."

Their fingers lace together with some difficulty due to the layers of gloves and Sturges gives Preston's hand a squeeze. Preston studies him for a moment, nods, and tugs him off.

Their quiet is companionable as they do a few more rounds, hands swinging between them as they keep pace together, guarding Sanctuary Hills through the night.


End file.
